


Pallet

by Mutie (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cat lover!Kanaya, F/F, Fluff, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanaya is spending a little too much time with the cat for Rose’s liking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pallet

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So. This is my first time posting here and I basially have no idea what I'm doing god  
> Also, I didn't edit this properly, because if I read back through shippy stuff I generally freak out and decide I hate my writing, so... sorry for anything that seems ultra-lame, and stuff.  
> I am the worst at titles. It is me.  
> Edit: Oops, this had a warning on it by accident. I got rid of it now. (Told you I was new to this...)

It’s not that you mind, really. You think it’s quite endearing- the way she giggles so childishly when she plays with him, the way she positively beams when he curls up, purring, in her lap. You don’t mind, not at all.

Most of the time.

But sometimes, when you come home late, too tired to do the housework, and you ask her if she could maybe, please, do it instead, but she’s too busy rolling round on the floor to hear you and you end up having to stay up late cleaning or cooking- sometimes that irks you, ever so slightly. Or when things are getting intimate between you and he strolls into the room, his tail curled proudly behind him, and she immediately squeaks in a way most unlike herself and runs to stroke him, leaving you practically growling with frustration. You know that it’s ridiculous- she’s your girlfriend, your Kanaya. And she loves you.

So why on earth are you jealous of your cat?

At this very moment the two of you are relaxing in your bedroom. You are seated at your desk, writing yet another story about wizards- though nowadays you find yourself adding vampires to your stories more and more frequently- and she is sprawled on the floor behind you, drawing up designs for clothes on a huge sheet of paper as she sips a mug of hot chocolate. Even though you aren’t talking, there is something incredibly calming about her presence; the very fact that she is here with you, relaxed enough to simply sit there and do her own thing… well, you’d be lying if your insides squirm a little in happiness. Obviously, you’ll never tell her this. You don’t think you have to. You lean back in your chair slightly, twirling your pen between your thin fingers. You’re not really sure where you’re going with this one- you started out with the intention of writing some sort of dark forbidden romance between the Druid of Darkness and the Druid of Light, but halfway through you suddenly decided that sort of thing was far too overdone and made it so that the Druid of Light was actually a woman, throwing a massively unexpected twist into their relationship and leading to much angst and confusion from the Druid of Darkness. You turn to watch the troll behind you for a moment, admiring the way her dark hair frames her pale face, and the way her legs fold behind her backs as she brushes her pencil across the page. She is possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever- oh stop it, Rose, you’re being sappy again. Honestly. What is wrong with you?

You return to your work, the ghost of a smile playing round the edge of your lips. You hesitate for a second, trying to regain your train of thought, and then touch the pen to the paper once more and resume your scrawling, having received, you think, sufficient inspiration. You are just getting back into it when-

“Meow.”

You groan inwardly as your girlfriend immediately leaps to her feet, sending her designs flying across the room. You had just reached an interesting part, too. The vampire prince (not princess- you like to think you have a little subtlety)- had been about to rescue the Druid of Light’s maid, who was about to be executed in order to keep her silent. This maid happens to spend most of her spare time writing, and has an odd knack for knitting. Which is completely beside the point, because Mutie has, after rubbing himself against Kanaya’s legs a few times, jumped up onto your desk and started patting at your hands as you type. You snort and bat him away. He looks thoroughly disgruntled and leaps back onto the floor to distract Kanaya instead, who grins from ear to ear and makes soft cooing noises, stroking him happily as he winds himself around her feet. You try once again to bury yourself in your story, and once again are thwarted by your cat, who seems to have rather taken to Kanaya’s horns and is mewling loudly at her as she giggles and replies in babytalk. You close your eyes. Were you religious, you would probably be praying for patience.

Instead, you save your work, log out of the computer, and leave the room.

 

—------------

 

She finds you in your room, three minutes and forty-eight seconds later (you most certainly have not been counting). You are reading, your legs crossed, the book held up ton your face. You’re not really concentrating on it- the words keep slipping from your mind, losing meaning as your thoughts grind against them, wearing them down to dust. She hesitates at the door, halfway between coming right in and asking permission. She settles for a quiet knock, and you look up at her briefly.

“By all means, come in.”

She does. She seats herself neatly at the foot of your bed, making sure to pull the hem of her skirt over her thighs. You snort quietly, hiding your face behind your book, but she hears you anyway and gives you a withering look. You raise an eyebrow.

“What is this about, Kanaya?”

“Ah. Well,” she mumbles, fidgeting slightly, “I was merely wondering if, perhaps, something was troubling you?”

You narrow your eyes a little, unsure as to how you should respond. Does she honestly expect you to get all… emotional on her, just like that? She should know better.

“I assure you, there is nothing ‘troubling me’, as you phrased it. Now, perhaps, you might leave me to read my book…?”

She rolls her eyes rather uncharacteristically and leans over to lower the book you have once again buried your face in. You glare at her, and she breathes a deep sigh.

“Rose. You have barely conversed with me for a number of days. You appear fatigued and anxious, and your human sarcasm, though you may perceive it as wit, is beginning to sound like- please forgive me- but it sounds a trifle like a defensive mechanism.”

Your glare softens into a thoughtful frown. It is not the first time she has expressed this opinion on your sarcastic personality. She admits that she finds it amusing; nonetheless, she seems to have decided that it is your way of hiding your emotions. Perhaps there is some truth in the idea.

“Sorry, dear, I was unaware that you were able to read my mind and understand every thought that runs though it. Is that a troll thing? Or is it an ability specific to rainbow drinkers?”

Now it is her turn to frown.

“I would be unable to peruse a thing from within your thinkpan even if I did possess such abilities, Rose. And I do believe that you are currently falling back on the very defence that I spoke of mere moments ago.”

You open your mouth, and then close it again, for once lost for words. It’s funny how Kanaya is the only one able to do that to you.

“I assure you, there is nothing the matter. Now why don’t you continue playing with dear Mutie? I have a book to read.”

She stares at you for a while, her eyes wide. When she finally speaks, her voice is slow and gentle, though not without a kind of amused disbelief.

“Surely you are jesting with me, Ms. Lalonde. Am I correct in concluding that you are envious of a meowbeast?”

You open your mouth to deny it, but before you can speak she has grabbed you by the shoulders and is kissing you, and fuck, you certainly weren’t expecting that, and she tastes like warmth and limes and hot chocolate, and your anger sort of melts away.

You’re being sappy again, but as she pulls back and gazes fondly into your eyes, complimentary colours reflected deep within one another- you realise that, for the moment, you just don’t care.

“…Hold on,” she says, standing up and walking to the door. For a moment you are afraid she’ll leave, but she simply closes it and returns to the bed, smiling. There is a faint mewling from the other side, but neither of you pay any heed.

You pull her down to you. Your book can wait a while.


End file.
